Doomsday prophecies

A graphic novel blends Aesop's fables and Orwell's dystopia in a saga of greed and destruction.

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Saurabh Singh

December 3, 2009

UPDATED: December 3, 2009 16:36 IST

MOONWARDby Appu PenBlaftPrice: RS 395, Pages: 272

It doesn't get any more serious than this. Modern civilisation is under the spell of a monster and is being led by the finger towards a disastrous culmination. The author, in his debut attempt, raises alarm by narrating this saga of greed and destruction, a grotesque fairytale loaded with symbolism and apocalyptic predictions. The story of creation doomed from the start, encounters monsters and tyrants every turn, and everything, from the philosophy of religion to the quagmire of an artist, is brought up in this graphic novel.

Like every epic, this one too starts from the start. In the beginning, there was nothing? But no sooner, a blob of existence emerged on the scene; he finds the garden of Eden already booby-trapped. A wise tortoise sheltered under an ancient tree tries to bring in order and morality amongst a bewildered lot of creatures and unknowingly sets of a chain reaction of unfortunate events.

It is difficult to miss the message when the symbol of corruption is an upright hand, palm facing front, fingers at attention. An inscription at the base mentions "the prophit" and horrific acts are carried out under the guidance of the "Hand" later. Trees are milked for their tears, which a valuable commodity. An artist who paints with his own blood finds himself incapable of bleeding, and thus incapable of painting, once his soul is corrupted by lust for money. The frail plant that gives birth to a bulbous top heavy pumpkin like fruit which bears cola bottles for seeds is an apt metaphor for human greed. An amalgam of Aesop's fables and Orwell's dystopia, Moonward tells the fatalistic nature of human desires. At one point, Man leaves in search of an answer for the mountain top and meditates where he is granted a flash of enlightenment. His future self, a portly version of his emaciated present condition tunes in, not unlike a TV broadcast, and preaches the love of money and the pleasures of power. Almost every page is loaded with symbolism, sometimes inventive and sometimes tired rhetoric.

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